It’s taken me awhile to figure out that:
Happiness doesn’t come from where you are;
it comes from inside you.
Theoretically, I knew this a long time ago. Yet this summer I just HAD to move back to Rochester. Willing to do whatever it took, I pictured myself staying there all semester until I had to leave for tour again.
But the surprise came when I got there:
It didn’t make me happier.
In fact, I was just as lonely as I had been all summer in Albany. All summer without many friends, without my home church, I thought, “If I can just get back to Rochester, I’ll be happy.”
How many times have I thought that?
If I can just finish grad school…
If I can just be more involved at church…
I ended up moving back to my parents’ house in Albany last week, so I can save as much money as possible for paying my Booking Coordinator to do cold calls for me. (She’s worth far more than her weight in gold.) And it wasn’t until I got back here — with few friends and the need to start over and find yet another church for while I’m here (one of my least favorite things is starting over with brand new relationships all the time) — that I finally found happiness.
Maybe joy is a better word. Happiness is too tied to hormones.
And maybe “found happiness” isn’t the right wording, because it’s more a choice to embrace happiness.
But I feel so much fuller now than I did in Rochester, because I learned that I had to stare my loneliness in the face and be content with Christ in me…